


Care and Feeding

by cathouse_mary



Category: Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Blindfolds, Bondage, Gags, Gender Issues, M/M, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-09
Updated: 2011-10-09
Packaged: 2017-10-24 10:32:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,229
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/262494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cathouse_mary/pseuds/cathouse_mary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They're a train wreck, but what works, works.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Care and Feeding

Title: Care and Feeding

Pairing: Grelliam - relationship.

Kinks: Bondage - gag and blindfold. Gender issues.

Summary: All right. So. They're a bloody train wreck - but what works, works. If you can get it working again...

Note: Written for madpineapple in the kinkmeme thread who wanted William tied to the bed and some kink - it grew from a vignette to 4K words. With thanks to my beta, R. You rock my commas. *SMOOCH!*

~

As with any long-term pairing, there were occasional bumps in the road. Or potholes. Occasionally there was not much road at all and you just had to wing it, so to speak. And, once in a great while, there was a buggering up (and not in the good, hot, fuck me harder way) of such breathtaking scope that it required something extraordinary in order to get them back on track.

That would be the circumstances as they lay right now.

They’d been partners and lovers off and mostly on for almost a century, after all. They knew each other’s kinks and quirks intimately. They'd wrecked again, and this time Will had a lot to say about it - including the words 'over' and 'finished' and 'done.' Now Grell was going to deliver her rebuttal. Planning it filled the off hours, stalking Will as if hunting him down, deciding on methods, techniques, materials, location.

Complicating matters already complicated to start with, Will was in the most incredibly foul mood Grell had ever seen, with reprimands flying left, right and centre. The entire London division was walking on tiptoe past Will’s closed door. Eric got a ding each for his lack of a waistcoat, white belt, and un-ownership of a watch. Alan took a ding for his string tie. Ronald’s white shoes and belt each earned him a ding. Grell had a stack of fifteen dings by elevenses - one of them was for ‘insubordinate breathing’ no less.

Alan suggested _sotto voce_ near the water cooler that somehow Will had managed to store his scythe in a highly unorthodox and unusual position - though it would explain his posture. An assignment to Bethlehem Royal Hospital until further notice was on the petite Reaper’s desk by afternoon tea break.

Eric’s impolitic offer to aid in the removal of the scythe from the aforementioned hypothetical location resulted in an assignment to Newgate.

For once Ronald took the hint that discretion might be the better part of valour and belted up.

It was not that Will had ever been an outing at Brighton to deal with. Even on his best day, the man never cracked a smile. He was beautiful, precise, and marrow-chillingly cold. Though there was a fiery a passion underneath the ice that could leave Grell spent, sweating, and-

How long had it been, exactly, since either of them had been laid?

Grell actually had to look at her calendar. That long. Well. No bloody wonder.

And Will? According to Alan and Eric, well-bribed with their favourite brandy later that evening, since their last bust-up Will just simply Had Not. Not with anyone.

“Not even with Ronald? Let’s face facts: those are tasty-looking buns.” Grell tipped the Napoleon and Josephine back, savouring the bite of the brandy and the bubbles of champagne. The crowd at the bar was three deep, with drinks flowing like the Thames - and London division was getting seriously polluted. “If he hasn’t noticed, then I’d say he needs his prescription checked.”

Alan swirled the garnet-red brandy in his glass. “Nobody. Even when the after-party was the stuff of legends, he was going home alone.”

“Not for lack of offers, you know?” Eric poured himself another one from the skull-shaped bottle and signalled the barman to refill Grell’s drink. “He’s just got a type.”

Grell reflected on that, finger drawing swirls in the condensate on the glass. “What type?”

“You.” Alan gave her a pitying look and added, “Idiot.”

Grell swallowed something that felt distinctly lumpy in her throat. “Ah. Right. Eric, cough up a few skulls and buy your old Senior a triple?”

One very good thing about Alan and Eric was that no matter how plastered you got, they’d always get you safely home and into bed - sometimes it would even be your bed. It was not the case that she was emotional and ended up drinking her weight in alcohol, because that was just not Grell Sutcliff. There had just been a little too much Josephine with her Napoleon; champagne was just sneaky that way.

Dealing with the hangover the next morning was beneficial. The pain focused one’s mind marvellously while one's cheek rested on the cool tile of the floor in one's bath. So it was that Grell decided on the classic and direct approach: a cricket bat and some very nice black silk rope.

~

Honestly.

They were taking their shoes off to go past his office door now.

However, Eric Slingby had shown up in full uniform for the first time since... since ever. Alan Humphries’ tie this morning was a regulation black silk grosgrain. Ronald Knox’s white oxfords had been changed for black and shined to a gloss.

Grell Sutcliff?

Will opened his desk calendar and read the note he’d been leaving himself.

DO NOT REAP REDHEADED PROBLEM.

Grell wore that red wool coat with the bow on the back, then looked over his shoulder at Will’s reprimand and blew him a kiss with red lipstick. Come tomorrow morning, Grell’s new beat would be the London sewer system wearing a pair of black rubber waders and a carbide miner’s lamp.

While disliking overtime, Will was tempted to stay slightly past office hours. He would avoid the entanglement this time. After these wrecks, surely he and Grell both knew better than to re-engage. Firming his resolve while setting aside cowardice and overtime, Will put on his coat and turned off his desk lamp. He was going to go straight home, though maybe he’d stop and get some tea. Tea was uncomplicated, not intoxicating, and did not end up with Grell in his bed.

Or on his kitchen table.

Or on the floor of the bath.

Or in the lift with Will mashing the stop button until his thumb went numb.

He was firmly and completely in control of his baser instincts. The correct head would be doing the thinking from now on, thank you. In fact, Will was so firmly in control of his baser instincts that he never even saw the cricket bat swinging as he locked his office door - though he did see the pretty stars before everything went black.

~

Grell carried a very unconscious William Spears over one shoulder and out of the dispatch room, swinging a cricket bat in his left hand instead of a chainsaw.

“Good night, my darlings! No overtime tonight - leave it for the next shift.”

“Good night, Senior!

“Good night, Senior!”

Ronald didn’t even manage to make his manners, able only to gape after them as the door closed. A look around at his other seniors made him wonder if he was the only one who’d even noticed that?

“Um. Did anyone else just see that?” If he sounded somewhat plaintive, it was only because while all of his seniors were brilliant, they were touched in the head and prone to pranks.

Alan peered over the partition at him. “Of course. We said good night to them, didn’t we?”

“It happens.” Eric popped up beside his partner. “Trust me, Grell was my Senior and it’s for the best.”

Nodding sagely, Alan agreed. “They’ve done this before. In any case, I thought I heard you moaning about not getting to party with that long-legged knockout from Resources tonight?”

“Well, yes, but-” There were so many buts that he had no idea where to start with this one. He sighed. “Let me guess. A young’n like me couldn’t understand, right?”

Eric nodded. “It works for them.”

“Don’t think about it too hard,” Alan advised. “Get your coat and let’s go before someone accuses us of overtime.”

His seniors, even if a bunch of nutters, were really good guys. “Can you lend me about ten skulls, Senior? I’m tapped until pay day.”

~

Will’s first thought was that someone had given him one hell of a thump.

Will’s second thought was that the someone’s next duty would make the London sewers look like a stroll in Hyde Park.

Will’s third thought, principally concerning revenge, was stopped mid-rant by the realisation that he was tied at ten vital points to a bed. And gagged. And blindfolded. And wearing absolutely nothing but the gag and blindfold.

Honestly. He’d not realised that Grell had been taking notes.

“I like you like this, Will.” Grell’s voice came from the left, followed by a sound of fabric sliding on fabric and the faint tap of a glass being set on a table. “Naked, but that’s beside the point.” A low chuckle. “No, actually it’s not. You look good like this, you chilly dear. The black silk suits your skin, and the red sheets show both very nicely. Even your blindfold and gag are black. It’s lovely.”

Carefully, Will tested the bindings. Damn Grell, he _had_ been taking notes!

“I did learn from the best, you know. You’re so exacting.” The bed moved as Grell sat, a pair of manicured fingers walked indolently up Will’s thigh. “You know how to touch me, and when you do that I can’t think straight. You hands, your lips, your prick; a demon couldn’t debauch me more or make me more wanton than you do.”

Was that a comparison? William felt his body go taut with rage. He should have reaped the beast when he had the chance.

“Jealous. Oh, my knickers! You actually growled, Will!” Grell laughed in a tone of disbelief, fingers pausing an inch to the left and two down from his navel, index finger scribing a circle. “You really are jealous, aren’t you? You green-eyed monster!”

There was, to Will’s discomfiture, only one way to answer that and he could not do that with a gag in his mouth. “Mhphmhmmph.”

“I am not taking off the gag.”

“Mph.”

“No.” Grell’s hand moved to a far more interesting position, fingers lightly enclosing his cock with nails poised. “You’re far too good at this when it’s me, you know. I want to see if I do the same to you. Now, about this jealous snit you’re having.”

Simple answer. He was going to beat that demon into next week, leave him to suffer, meet up with him on the following Tuesday, and then reap him back to front and front to back again just for jollies. Problem solved.

And he was not having a snit, thank you.

And how was he supposed to argue this gagged?

“You are so having a snit. When it comes to That Being, there’s no other way to describe it.” Grell’s breath warmed his ear. “Snit.” Then he sat back, making himself comfortable on William’s thighs and playing with his prick. Will managed to get some of the gag between his teeth and started chewing, stopping only when Grell’s nails became a little more threatening to tender parts, and then arching as he then gave said part a smooth stroke.

“Don’t be like that, hm? All I want to do is touch you.” Will’s left nipple took a pinch that made him grunt in protest. “Behave, you naughty thing. You have no need to be jealous - though it's verrry arousing that you are. I’d no idea.”

Grell arched and frotted luxuriously against him, stroking them both in tandem.

“Mhpfhmmphhmhm.” While he had no idea what he’d just said, neither would Grell and sheer curiosity might get this bloody gag out of his mouth!

“You’re just trying to get me to untie the gag.”

“Hmhmhm.” There were drawbacks to a partnership of almost a century. Grell knew him.

“Are so.”

“Hmhmmp?”

Grell lightly raked Will’s sides with his nails, making Will twitch. In addition to being nearsighted, Reapers were also ticklish. “No. I want to fix this mess we’re in.”

Ah. That was it. And hadn’t he told himself that this was just what they should not be doing again? He had. And if this was not what they ought to be doing, then-

Oh, to Hell with it.

Grell was Grell. It was just that simple. For everything else there was a workaround. Even breaking the rules - or blowing them to smithereens - being touched in the head and flirting with demons. They’d been together for too long, from day one, and you just didn’t give up on that.

“What is it? You’re thinking, Will. Your eyebrows do that when you’re thinking.”

Double nipple pinching! Oh, there was going to be such a reckoning. Soon. “Hmphmpf?”

“I could untie the gag.” Grell rubbed his fingers lightly over the pinched bits in an almost apology. “If you behave, because believe me, I am not untying you until you do.”

Him? Behave? He always behaved. For the most part. Grell picked apart the knot and unwrapped the cloth from his mouth.

Will wriggled his jaw a bit and took a sip of water when it was offered. Now, as to whatever was going on in Grell’s head... “We work well together, and we fit each other, and you drive me up a bloody gods-be-damned wall, but you’re still my Grell and if that demon scum so much as lays a sideways glance upon you, I will reap him into bloody, mangled little bits.”

The silence that followed could only be described as ‘flabbergasted.’

“You are. You are really jealous.” Grell was still atop him, hands resting on Will’s chest. “I was just... playing, Will. As I do when we aren’t... when we aren’t.”

“Had some serious consequences this time, didn’t it?” Will kept his voice gentle. This one had been a mutual wreck. "The board's making my life hard over this, but I think I can fix it."

For once it appeared Grell had been rendered speechless.

Almost. There were times when speaking did not require words, though lips were definitely engaged, and teeth, and tongues and it was a good thing that neither of them actually needed to breathe because Grell had been holding out on him and could kiss like fire about to burn them both up. He nipped hard at Grell's lower lip and took one in return.

"I want to touch you, Grell." Nobody else could make him burn like this, make him so hard he couldn't think of anything else. "Just untie one hand."

"No." Grell was breathless, stretched across him with whatever silky thing he was wearing rucked up and disordered where they now pressed together flesh to flesh. Grell had tied him so well that he couldn't even get the friction he needed to bring them both off. "Want you like this."

"What else do you want?" He was genuinely curious; it seemed that Grell's hidden quirks would take some digging out. "You've been holding out. Tell me."

"I want your mouth."

"How prim, Grell." And Grell could be so missish at the most unexpected moments, to his amusement. "You want your prick sucked."

"Ohh, you're just pure evil, getting me this hot." Grell writhed against him, sliding up his torso on the satin of whatever dainty he had on and moving a pillow under Will's head. "You know your mouth drives me wild."

The best chance he had of causing Grell to untie him at least partially lay in rendering him helpless with pleasure, his wits abandoned to overwhelming need. As Grell pressed the head of his prick into Will's mouth, then and there Will decided that this was going to be a personal best.

~

Oh, usually this was reserved for being on her best behaviour, but-

"Yes. Ohyes." Will teased back Grell's foreskin with his tongue and slowly took her in. She had to take hold of the headboard to hold herself up, head tipping back. Appetizer. Appetizer. Not the main course, Grell. This was... ohtonguecheeksteethwetsuckgood! It wasn't hungry sucking - any fool with a mouth could give fellatio - but a considered and meticulous application of sensations that built such need.

The slippery smooth wetness of cheeks, the velvety rub of tongue, and the dangerous edge of teeth were enough to make her not mind being a him so very much. Glans and shaft, balls and the sensation-loaded trigger right behind them were not lavished with attention, but what Will could not do with his tongue was not worth doing.

Even if it was tying cherry stems in a knot. Cherry stems were not her bits. Though Will could tie other things in knots, like wits and reason and he made her burn so hot and... a hand sliding up the back of her thigh, squeezing her arse and waitwaitwait wait a minute!

It took every scrap of wits she had left to pull out of that sinful mouth - oh the demon had nothing on Will's mouth - and look at Will's left hand.

Or rather where his left hand ought to have been safely tied.

He'd picked the knot, and Grell had not known that her skin could need his touch so badly until she'd been without it.

"Naughty, Will." It was supposed to sound stern, even threatening. Instead she sounded like a breathless hussy as Will probed, then teasingly pressed her open. Oh, damn, where did she put the oil? It was harder to keep track of when she was the only one using it.

"I am not. I'm simply taking initiative. What are you hunting?"

In this state, even Will's voice was tactile enough to make her skin buzz with heat. His fingers pressed oh there, robbing her of speech for a moment. "Oil. Need it. Now."

"There's a lump under the pillow."

"Can you reach?"

"No, it's on my right."

Grell slid down Will's torso, intent of retrieving the oil, only realising her tactical error as Will wound his hand in her hair and pulled her mouth to his. Oh, unfair. Unfair how much she needed him. Unfair that he mostly forgave her. Unfair that he could kiss the thoughts right out of her head.

~

Twisting his head again, Will loosened the blindfold enough to slip it off on the pillowcase. Much better. He broke the kiss and started breathing again. The bottle of almond oil lay curled in Grell's hand, forgotten.

"Just untie the other one. All I want to do is get my hands all over you." Grell's eyes were softly glazed, or perhaps that was just the steam on his glasses. He nuzzled Grell's jaw, gently biting his earlobe. "I'll be good after that."

Grell chuckled, shivering. "You already are good." He stretched out his arm and undid the knots holding Will's right wrist. "Now that's it. I am not untying another thing."

He could work with that, slipping his fingers through Grell's and plucking away the oil. "Tell me what you want, Grell. No holdouts."

“I just want you inside me again. I want you fucking me again, coming inside of me again.” Grell ground against him, kissing heatedly between words, missishness out the window for now. “Need it and need you.”

Uncorking the small bottle of oil, Will poured some over his fingers, then a slow drip to the cleft of Grell’s buttocks. “How do you want it?”

“Want to ride your prick...” Grell raised his arse like a cat as Will pressed two fingers quickly into him, the tight, slick heat around his fingers enough to make Will catch his breath. Grell took the bottle from him, sat back and lavishly oiled his hands.

“This is going to make a mess of your bed.” Will was too well tied to move, but what Grell did to his already straining prick made his toes curl hard. Both hands, oiled, stroked him slowly.

“Last thing on my mind, Will.” Grell raised himself up, poised with the head of Will’s prick pressed against his entrance, then eased slowly down over him. “Yessss... oh just the thing...”

There was something to this position. From here, Will could watch everything, but...

Grell reached past him, something making a soft clatter against the headboard, and then Will’s glasses were carefully put back on. Now that was so much better! Grell resolved from a blur of red and white into Grell in a satiny negligee that as nice as it looked was in the way of him seeing Grell.

Trying to lift the hem got Will a stern hand-slapping and a firm “No.” Then Grell moved in a way that made him not mind one bit, groaning low as he braced his hands on Grell’s smooth-skinned thighs. Good. So bloody good it could drive him mad.

Grell rode him slowly, letting Will touch as he pleased unless there was an attempt to lift the hem of the negligee. His nipples, his buttocks, his thighs - nothing else was off limits as Grell worked for both their pleasures. Will rubbed the satin over Grell’s prick, buried to his balls in Grell’s heat, and there was no holding back for either of them.

“Want you ahh need... yes like that.”

“Oh, mine...”

“Yours... close... I...”

“Mmmore...”

“Need to-“

“Yes oh! Oh come!”

“Want to watch you ahhh now-“

With his hand on Grell’s arse, Will found a tiny bit of give in the robes, the last push causing the neighbours to hammer angrily at the walls. Will shook with the force of his shot, crying out like some hot-blooded youth, his other hand moving raggedly on Grell’s sex, feeling the desperate surge of heat. Grell arched atop him, his hair wild, hips and arse working frantically as he writhed in release, dark wet spots blooming on the satin.

~

Grell sprawled atop Will, her body lush and at ease for the first time in far too long. The humans might have that thing about the body’s humours right, as all things divine knew they’d both become very unbalanced in their time apart. The ropes were off, tossed in a corner with the besmirched negligee and oil-spotted sheets.

No holdouts, he’d said. Will was never less than forthright, and maybe Grell was tempting the Fates, but... "Will?"

"Hm?" His fingers were swirled in her hair and his eyes closed. There was a very faint lift at the corners of his lips.

"What would you think if I had a big fat pair of knockers?" That got Will's attention, causing him to open his eyes and reach for his glasses. "Possibly a vagina, maybe even a clitoris and both sets of labia, a _mons veneris_ would be nice, but the knockers would be a lot more obvious. As in really, really huge."

Will looked at him, a faintly puzzled expression in place as he slid his glasses on. "I'm not sure what you're talking about."

"If I were a woman. Would you still..." She couldn't say it. They were a train wreck, the both of them. Grell rolled off of Will and shoved her face in the pillow, face burning. "Nvrmnd."

"You'd still be Grell, though."

That got her attention, and she raised her head. "I'd still be Grell. I’d just be Grell with knockers and et ceteras and so forths."

"Is this a thing that's going to happen tomorrow?"

"No. Not tomorrow. It's... hypothetical. Might not ever happen, really." That was a depressing thought.

"You'd still be Grell." Will took off his glasses and set them on the nightstand again. "Come on, you know how you oversleep when you're up late. And don't fall asleep in your glasses." He removed them, folded the earpieces shut and set them next to his own.

~

Alan, shoes in hand, peered down the corridor to the dispatch room. The coast, so to speak, was clear. Nodding to Eric and Ronald behind him, he ran across the dull grey carpeting and hit the linoleum at velocity, sliding by William's office door on his sock-clad feet as if on ice.

William's open office door.

William watched him go gliding by, one eyebrow rising. "Alan Humphries."

Oh, balls. Just... balls.

He slid to a stop and walked back to the open door, prepared for his Senior's rendition of Ragnarok.

"Good morning, Senior."

William looked at his white socks with the little skull-and-crossbones emblems on them. "Not regulation."

"No, sir." Alan braced himself. It couldn't get much worse than Bedlam, could it?

"Don't let it happen again."

Alan stared.

"A problem, Reaper?" Will adjusted his glasses, glancing at the stack of blank ding forms on his desk.

"No, Senior. Not a bit!" Alan hopped on one foot, trying to get his left foot into his right shoe before he realised his error. "Thank you, sir."

"You and Eric Slingby are reassigned to your usual patrol area in Westminster east." William raised his voice. "Unless he's late."

There was a pause, then some very cadenced footsteps in the hall as Ronald, Eric and the nine of the other ten Reapers who comprised their shift came through double-time.

"Goodmorningsenior!"

William nodded, checking his pocket watch. "And should you see Grell Sutcliff, please direct him here. He's late."

"I will, sir."

"Then good morning to you."

Alan actually bowed to him, almost giddy with relief. It was going to be all right again.

~

End


End file.
